


To each our own (and damned be the ones that contradict it so)

by totallyclueless



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry, Draco's kind of a bitch, F/M, Harry is sad, M/M, PTSD, Pining Harry cause we don't get enough of that, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Some Ronmione cause why not, Top Draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24663703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyclueless/pseuds/totallyclueless
Summary: He knows how it is going to go; Malfoy will fuck him, raw and hard the way he likes it. He will bring Harry close to him, tell him a lover’s tale full of sunshine in the dark, and Harry will feel gratified and a little less unhappy.Only to wake up to lonely pillows and a broken heart.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, some ronmione too
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	To each our own (and damned be the ones that contradict it so)

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another one of my impulsive posts hehhehe

Harry’s in a dangerous situation; he’s currently pressed up against the wall, heart echoing in his ears as the devilishly handsome bastard hovers over him. He tries his best to muster a glare, anything really to hide how shaken he was feeling.

“Malfoy,” he whispers hoarsely, “Stay away,” 

He knows how it is going to go; Malfoy will fuck him, raw and hard the way he likes it. He will bring Harry close to him, tell him a lover’s tale full of sunshine in the dark, and Harry will feel gratified and a little less unhappy.

Only to wake up to lonely pillows and a broken heart.

He’s already lost count; Draco Malfoy has been over at his, more than the number of times Ron and Hermione have visited and Harry  _ knows  _ damn it. He knows he could never have had an ordinary life as a teenager, seeing as Voldemort couldn’t make it five seconds before ruining (or trying to) his life. In fact, Harry often wonders; perhaps he’s been so accustomed to the poison of such circumstances, that he’s developed a taste for it. A taste so bitter and intoxicating that he becomes more and more dissatisfied with every sip he takes, for it will never be enough.  And sometimes when Harry falls asleep, he dreams of silver and mercury and the smell of peaches. It is bliss till he wakes up, hands outstretched for something that was never there.

But it isn’t enough to push Harry away; the sex makes up for how shitty he feels in the aftermath of it all and if he closes his eyes and just  _ concentrates,  _ he can feel the savory feel of Malfoy’s lips on his.

That is why now instead of backing off, Malfoy edges closer, his silk shirt hanging loosely off his slender frame. He doesn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes glaze over his collarbones, doesn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes burn brilliantly with need and most certainly catches the want flickering in his former enemy’s face. It’s a game they often play-one that Harry never wins. Malfoy is all over him, gripping his waist tightly as he blows teasingly into the shell of Harry’s ear. Lips ghosting each other, aching for contact as their hands mold into each other perfectly.

His place. They don’t last five seconds before they even step inside; Harry’s hands find themselves pinned to his back as Malfoy roughly shoves him facefirst into the wall. He shivers instinctively, feels trapped under the heavy scrutiny of Malfoy and as he opens his mouth to make a sharp retort, Malfoy’s hand finds itself nestled in his ass almost lovingly. 

And Harry can’t find it in himself to fight back anymore; his will to resist has been burned away around the edges, swallowed whole by his desire as he lets out a desperate gasp. 

“ _ Fuck  _ me _ ,”  _ he is breathless, impatient, “M' yours,” 

It’s like discovering a different kind of magic; Malfoy’s grip on his wrists instantly tighten and the air becomes thick with desire as Harry smirks knowingly- over the course of their countless fucking, he’s learned that Malfoy has quite the domesticity kink. 

''Oh are you?” But the blonde sounds dangerous; the calm before a storm, Harry stupidly realises with a squeak as the clutch on his bum hardens. 

“Then care to enlighten me, Harry,” Harry catches on, alarmed at where this is going, but it really is too late. "What am I to you? A measly joke to pass around with your friends? Haven't you got a bloke to go to for that, why come meowing back to me?”

But it isn’t true _ ,  _ he wants to argue,  no one can make me feel the way you do.

The roar of the silence is deafening; Harry keeps quiet as the hand around his wrists loosens, he stays quiet as his chin is yanked up and Draco Malfoy is kissing him feverishly, his blonde hair frazzled and his grey eyes clouded with lust and anger. And he stays quiet as Malfoy makes a show of scrubbing his lips fiercely with a snarl that could make the dragons he faced in his fourth year cower in fear. Then he is gone, the echo of his words twisting heavily in the air. 

It really isn’t true; he isn’t and hasn’t been seeing anyone for quite a while since his fling with Malfoy started, only because it wasn’t right to pine away for someone who would never want him the way Harry needed.  And the next thing he knows, there's a familiar burning sensation in his eyes and he’s left angrily wondering why he keeps on managing to lose the only ones he’s ever loved so effortlessly.

  
  
  



End file.
